Category Poetry

Seven Seas of London

So this country is an island this city a thousand more this street another dozen maybe fewer, maybe more A thousand scowling natives a thousand untapped mines a thousand golden towers a thousand untold crimes And I’m Vasco da Gama,…

Minor Flame

Nothing worse than Whitey from a different country idly writing pretentious poetry about events thousands of miles away. But hey, spirit of the season eh? A flying fist is a fiery thing A thousand tanks are not A dying child…

Towers to Wings

A wave of wings washing the city beauty above for below only pity The towers we raise in pale imitation a sorry attempt at a human migration But the higher we rise the longer the shadows the greyer the streets the…

The Empty Riff

That same old empty riff played out by a big band in an empty chest If Dean Martin’s there he’ll need a drink But better by far if the lights just fade to black

Grown Children

I’m tentative to write anything serious about war in any form but poetry more than most. There’s plenty of real War Poetry out there from people who have some actual idea of what that actually means and people like me have no…

Icebergs

On my travels I’ve met many people, millionaires and bankrupts, junkies and dealers, the confusingly normal and the awe inspiringly odd. And all along, the one resounding trait, the one uniting human factor amongst them all? They didn’t write bloody…

Cracks

There’s a reason why I don’t tend to write poetry but like drinking, smoking, leaving bills unread, forgetting to take the bins out, eating shitey food and never excercising I just can’t help myself no matter how bad the outcome. —…

I shot a man yesterday…

I rarely like poetry. Too much of it, even among the pieces held up as worthy by those supposedly in the know, is far too self indulgent. Writing might have therapeutic side effects, but it still isn’t therapy. Anyway, here’s…